


Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

by Ihasa



Category: Kamen Rider OOO
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Porn, Established Relationship, First Time, Just a little angst, M/M, PWP, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Power Bottom Date Akira, bless, both of these boys are walking disasters, for texture, in which the author had to google the kinds of phone you might have in japan in roughly winter 2012
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-05
Updated: 2020-11-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 23:26:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27405013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihasa/pseuds/Ihasa
Summary: He’s got an Idea, and his tongue’s in between his teeth, and that hungry part of him is aching and his brain’s not really keeping up with it, and he’s been waiting so long to get fucked, and bless him but Gotou istoo goddamn slow.- -Months after they save the world, Date and Gotou are finally ready for sex. Gotou is cautious. Date helps.
Relationships: Date Akira/Gotou Shintarou
Comments: 4
Kudos: 10





	Put Your Money Where Your Mouth Is

**Author's Note:**

> Content warning for a little under-negotiation of sex, and a bit of honest reflection from Date about his actions in the series. I will never be over episode 37, y'all.

“I’m not going to be any good at this,” Gotou said.

“Aw c’mon, don’t be like that,” said Date, ruffling his partner’s hair with his free hand. It was pre-ruffled, really, already messier than normal from his own usual tender ministrations up to this point. Date continued:

“You’ll be fine, I believe in you.”

“I don’t want to be  _ fine _ ,” said Gotou, his voice dropping into a low, grouchy mutter. Low, grouchy, and a little teeny bit petulant, not that Date was going to call it out. Not now, anyway, much as he wanted  _ desperately  _ to tease him. He had other priorities at that exact moment.

Trying to get fucked tended to bring that out in a man. Laying there on the sheets, shoulders propped up on a little pillow mountain, fingers in his own ass, with motherfucking  _ Shintaro Gotou _ kneeling between his legs, condom on and all lubed up,  _ should  _ have been the start of the perfect scenario, the final scene in their perfect little love story. Like, ok, he knew fucking wasn’t the be all end all, he  _ knew  _ that, and that was the smart way to think, but also: He really wanted Gotou to  _ fuck him already _ .

They’d touched, they’d kissed, on more than one occasion Date had sucked Gotou’s dick until he left stubble burns all over his thighs, but until now, until this exact date, they hadn’t properly fucked. They hadn’t been ready, and besides that Date was out of the country as often as he was in it. There had been something stomach-flutteringly beautiful in the waiting, and the anticipating, and the closing in on that line over days and weeks and months but god.  _ God _ . Date was  _ dying _ .

Ok, not literally. Not anymore, anyway. But to be frank the only ‘bullet’ Date wanted inexorably working deeper inside him until his brain shut down these days was in fact Shintaro Gotou’s dick, and getting this  _ close  _ without actually  _ getting  _ it was making him crazy.

“C’mon babe.” Date grabbed Gotou by the shoulders, pulling him onto his hands and knees. He wrapped an arm loosely around Gotou’s neck, lifted both legs and hooked them around Gotou’s waist, pulling a little ‘whuf’ out of Gotou as the weight hit him. Date smiled up at him, and pointed up at Gotou’s face.

“You are gonna fuck me, and it’s gonna be great, because you’re great.”

Gotou grimaced, cast his eyes to the side.

“I just don’t want to do it wrong.”

“Not possible.” Date kissed Gotou on one of those glass-sharp cheekbones for emphasis.

Gotou looked back at him, frowning.

“I’m pretty sure that isn’t true.”

“So what if it isn’t? It’s gonna be great! We’re gonna mess up and get sloppy and do something stupid and it’s gonna be  _ great _ . Now c’mere.”

Date slid his hand down between their bodies, taking a second or two to tweak a nipple on the way down. Gotou made a small, surprised noise, and leaned his head against Date’s arm. He sighed like he was exasperated, and maybe he was, but in a second Date was guiding him inside him, and the sigh turned to a second surprised little sound of pleasure. Date sighed too, his heart in his throat as finally,  _ finally _ , he got to feel that pleasant stretch, that heat he’s been craving. That hungry ache in him is singing, his whole body buzzing with barely sated anticipation.

“I just want,” Gotou said, shifting on the bed by a fraction of an inch. Date rolled his hips, gentle as he could stand. “I just want to be good at this.”

“Good takes practice, Gotou-chan,” he rolled his hips again, pressing down against Gotou, feeling him slide that tiny infinitesimal amount further in. “And you have my permission to practice as often as you want,” he added, just to be sure the point was sinking in. Got a laugh for that one. Probably good.

Date ran his hands into Gotou’s hair and pulled him up into a kiss, teeth nipping and tongue searching, gentle again, so gentle, so careful. Gotou was kissing him, which,  _ damn _ , Date was never gonna stop thinking that was cool, and his hands are on Date’s thighs, on the backs of his knees, on his stomach and his chest, touching slowly and carefully like he’s hungry but not sure what he’s allowed to eat. Date leans into everything, running a thick finger around Gotou’s earlobes, making a slow fist in his hair, savoring and craving and trying to get every part of him under a hand or against his chest, wishing he had more arms and settling for locking his ankles behind Gotou’s back. Gotou moved in him by inches, so slowly Date wanted to scream, and every time Gotou moved his eyes flicked up, watching, assessing, thinking it over. Turning every movement over in his hands, examining every reaction and filing it away for later.

Frustrating, yes, but also cute as  _ fuck _ .

“Talk to me, you good?” Date got his other hand under him, shifts himself on Gotou until he got him just that little, tiny bit deeper, closer to that sweet spot he knows is in him, aching and waiting. Gotou’s brow furrowed.

“Yes,” he’d gotten a little breathier, but he was still being so slow, so  _ careful  _ as he moved inside Date. Not falling apart at all. Gotou’s hands slid up along Date’s chest, squeezing, and Gotou stretched up against him, craned his neck to kiss along Date’s throat. His weight felt incredible on Date’s chest, warm and naked and just a tiny bit sweaty, but still, but  _ still _ -

“I, um, did some reading,” said Gotou, suddenly. And Date almost came right there.

“You  _ what _ .”

“There are-” Date squeezed. “Ohmygod-  _ Date-s- _ ”

“Akira.”

“There are a  _ lot  _ of manuals, turns out,” Gotou finally finished, mashing a kiss against the hollow of Date’s collarbones.

“Oh  _ are  _ there?” Date sat up a little, grabbed Gotou around his skinny ass with both hands. Gotou shivered, and Date felt him shiver  _ in _ him, so close but not quite at that spot he needed it. “Tell me.”

“There’s nothing to tell, I just, I looked it up.” Gotou got a knee under him, got up on his elbows. Twisted by a tiny degree. Thrust. Date bit down on his lip.

“No come on, tell me. Tell me what you read, Gotou-chan.” Date moved his hands again, grabbed Gotou by the face, squished his cheeks, tipped his head up to look at him. Date felt like he could eat him, but in like, a sexy way. Imagining Gotou reading a sex blog about this, or a dirty magazine, or smutty fan fiction, or  _ whatever _ . Imagining him reading it  _ for him _ . “Tell me about it. You read porn? What porn? What didja read, thinkin’ about me?”

“It was more of a wikiHow.” 

“Didja touch yourself? Didja think about me?” Date’s heart thudded with the image, hot and hard in his chest. Gotou, sitting in his apartment, grabbing himself, putting his tie between his teeth and pulling one of his little sweater vests up over his stomach. In the now, Gotou flexed, moved again, and Date stared deep into those eyes, saw the little bit of fear and excitement looking back at him.

Gotou blinked.

“No, I just, I read it. For later. For now.”

Date groaned, and not in the way he wanted to be groaning. He let himself fall back into the pillows. Gotou flopped onto his chest with another little gasp, his sharp chin stabbing into firm pec.

“Gotta work on your dirty talk, Gotou-chan,” Date said, resting his cheek against his fist. Gotou looked up at him, nestled in his chest hair, and that tiny bit of fear and excitement turned from fun to actual, honest disappointment in himself.

“Sorry, Date-san-”

“Akira.”

Shintaro Gotou, Date thought, is very beautiful, and very beloved, and very,  _ very  _ stupid. And once again, he’s walking when he  _ could  _ be running. And once  _ again _ , who should be on the other track of that race but Date? So, of course, in a flash of inspiration, he knows what to do. He has an Idea. Same as ever, same as always, Akira Date knows exactly how to help. With a little huff he sat up, feeling almost zero resistance from the weight on his chest.

“Ok,” he said, but he’s not really listening, not really talking to anyone in particular. “Here we go.” He scooped Gotou up - easiest thing in the world - and slid him out of him, flipped both of them over, and pressed Gotou down into the bed. Gotou said something, the wind nearly knocked out of him. Something that’s confused but isn’t ‘don’t’ or ‘stop’ or anything really negative, and again, to be honest, Date wasn’t really listening as he shoved Gotou down into the little pillow mountain, tossing one or two pillows aside as he settled him in. He’s got an Idea, and his tongue’s in between his teeth, and that hungry part of him is aching and his brain’s not really keeping up with it, and he’s been waiting so long to get fucked, and bless him but Gotou is  _ too goddamn slow _ .

Date straddled him, knees on either side of Gotou’s narrow waist. He reached behind his back and grabbed Gotou’s dick again, sliding him into his entrance without any of Gotou’s gentleness. Gotou cried out, more an ‘oh’ of surprise than anything, and the next moment even that sound was swallowed by a howl as Date’s entire weight crashed down on Gotou’s hips.

Date shifted, squeezed, moved them both, found in a second that spot inside him that’s been gagging for it and leaned into it, straightening himself up above Gotou like the statue of an avenging god. 

“There we go,” he said, grinning down at Gotou.

“ _ Date-san _ -” Gotou managed, barely, blinking rapidly like his eyes were full of stars. Date frowned, head getting fuzzier, the frustration slamming headlong into the spot inside him finally not being teased and made to wait. He didn’t say anything, just grabbed the headboard with both hands and went right to fucking  _ town _ .

It was the work of a moment for Date to get into a rhythm, bouncing up and down on Gotou’s dick like he was trying to break himself in. He felt himself loosen up, that stretched feeling turning to a flicker of pain and back to pleasure after a couple thrusts. He squeezed down again, pulling up fast and hard, hitting that spot over and over and over and-

“D-Date-san,  _ Date-san! _ ” Gotou said, again and again, whimpering, fisting the sheets with his head rolled back, throat perfect and pale and tight. Date could almost see the little veins in his neck standing out with the pressure.  _ Finally  _ he got to see that cute face coming undone, he thought, or half-thought. The part of Date that thought felt very, very far away right now. He squeezed harder, watched with interest how the skin around Gotou’s groin stretched every time Date picked his ass up, how Gotou trembled every time Date fell back down on him. The room echoed with the sounds of Gotou saying, or trying to say, a thousand wonderful - if somewhat scripted from whatever it was he’d read - things about how good it felt inside Date. Perfect. Totally, utterly perfect. Exactly how Date had wanted it to be.

“You’re so fucking cute,” Date heard himself growl, somewhere beyond the rush of blood in his ears and the increasingly loud squeaking and groaning of a bed that had never been built for a guy Date’s size to fuck its owner straight to Hell on. That would be troubling later. And probably it wouldn’t trouble Date at all. Date was rapidly approaching the point where basically nothing could trouble him whatsoever.

“ _ Date-san! _ ” Ok, scratch that. One thing could still bother him. His eyes ripped away from Gotou for a second, rolled as his brow furrowed hard. The next time Gotou’s mouth came open to shout, somewhere around the ‘ah’ in ‘Date’, Date pulled one hand off the headboard and popped his thumb in Gotou’s hot, wet, beautiful mouth, cutting off the word.

“ _ Akira _ ,” he said, louder and growlier than he meant to. He bent down, the change in the angle of entry doing incredible things inside him, and slid his thumb around on Gotou’s tongue, on his molars, across a beast-sharp canine.

The inside of his mouth was amazing, his breath so hot on Date’s wrist it gave him chills all down his back. Gotou tried not to bite, that much was obvious, tried not to grit his teeth, and the  _ sounds _ he was making now that he couldn’t bite down on every stray moan that was getting through that tight throat were incredible. The neighbors were gonna hear. Someone had better. Date dragged his thumb over the roughest part of Gotou’s tongue, pushing just a bit too far towards the back of his throat and choking him a little just to hear the gasping whimpers he got when he did it. When he went to pull his thumb out Gotou’s tongue followed, wet lips fluttering around the knuckle to kiss and suck it back inside. Date was only too happy to oblige. It was nothing to match the rhythm he’d hit with his hips to a rhythm of thrusting his thumb, rough and shallow, into Gotou’s mouth, banging his nail on Gotou’s teeth as Gotou trembled and tried so beautifully hard not to sever Date’s digit.

He called out Date’s name, and though it came out more like ‘Ahgehrugh’ around Date’s finger, coming from that mouth it’s perfect.

With a desperate, determined need, Gotou slid his hands up Date’s thighs and seized onto his hips, his fingers digging in. Date shuddered. He was getting close, cock dripping all over Gotou’s stomach, precum mingling with the beads of sweat across Gotou’s pale skin. Gotou couldn’t be far away either, with the way he was clamoring his hands over Date, squeezing and scratching and pulling. His eyes were squeezed so tight, his face so flushed. Date could feel Gotou’s dick throbbing inside him, pulsing and twitching with the same wild energy as his hands. Date noted the shaking calves and fluttering lashes and the suggestion of  _ tears  _ and was just thinking how best to tip Gotou over the edge when the phone rang.

Both of them went completely still. Both of them turned their heads. Date’s thumb left a wet smear of drool across Gotou’s cheek. The bed gave a final, gasping, relieved creak as it settled an inch further from the wall than it had been.

‘Work - Satonaka’, said the little external phone screen.

“Do you wanna get that?” Said Date, not really thinking.

“No?!” And when he looked back at Gotou’s panicked face, he noticed that with Gotou’s eyes wide open, one of those suggestions of tears had stopped being a suggestion, a fat little droplet sliding backwards into Gotou’s flushed ear, and  _ that  _ meant he had officially fucked Shintaro Gotou until he  _ cried _ , and if that wasn’t just the biggest feather in his cap what the fuck even  _ would  _ be?

With a wolfish grin he grabbed the phone off the bedside table, snapping it off the charging cable with a sharp little pop. Date swiveled his hips, squeezed. Gotou’s entire torso flexed tight, his eyes rolled back a little as Date resumed the pounding rhythm on Gotou’s cock. The bed  _ screamed _ . The phone continued to ring.

“You sure? Could be important.” A drop of sweat slid down the indentation on one side of Date’s groin and dripped onto Gotou’s belly for punctuation. Date leaned forward, bracing on the headboard with one hand while he dangled the phone over Gotou’s face, getting in a few rough hip rolls while he looked at the phone.

“Looks like she texted you a couple times, too,” he continued, eyeing a little number next to an icon. He thought that’s what that meant. Honestly he wasn’t sure.

“Da- _ Akira _ , don’t-” Gotou made a grab for the phone, couldn’t quite get it as Date sat back up and came down hard on his cock. Date had to give him a little credit for remembering the name thing, though. He gave him a few extra tight clenches for good behavior, watched his eyes go starry again. Date was starting to see a red haze around everything, all the world was condensed down into this moment, this bedroom, the smell of sweat and all the devilishly wonderful things Gotou begging made Date want to do. It was the contrarian in him. 

“You just sit tight, I can pick up. Satonaka can be a real hardass, we don’t wanna piss her off, right?”

“ _ Nn _ -no!” Gotou whimpered, stammering and tripping over the word as though language was entirely leaving him. Which, if Date was doing anything right, it was. “ _ Please- _ ”

“If you’re sure,” He flipped the phone open. Luckily it didn’t automatically connect the call. He wasn’t sure what he actually would have done if that had happened. “How ‘bout I text her a pic? So she knows you’re busy and not blowing her off.”

“ _ Date- _ ” Gotou cried, and suddenly his voice didn’t sound like he was having  _ fun _ anymore. “Date-san, _ don’t! _ ”

_ Oh _ .

Oh he had fucked up  _ big time. _

He stopped moving immediately, almost threw the phone across the room with a guilty grimace, but he managed to catch himself at the last second and put it back down on the table. He heard himself muttering ‘oh shit oh shit, babe, I didn’t- I wasn’t gonna-” as he pulled himself off Gotou’s cock. He picked him up, hauling him into his lap and into a hug. Gotou was completely limp in his arms, a pathetic overstimulated mess, breathing heavy and thick, every gasp on the edge of a sob.

Hearing him like that, Date felt like the worst person in the universe. Gotou was so precious, so brave and proud and intense and wonderful, and Date… Date was the dumbass who loved him from the start. From the moment Gotou had tried to catch a glimpse of him, from the moment Date saw him teetering on the edge of a crisis of faith in himself, and Gotou saw someone who he wanted to be like, Date had loved him, wanted to know him. Seeing someone, so young and so messed up about what he wasn’t, yet, seeing this beautiful man who looked at Date like he was the sun, had moved something in him. He had been lost, but Date had been dying, and here at the end was someone who needed him. So he’d asked him out, first, though he was sure Gotou hadn’t really caught the meaning of ‘do you want to get dinner’ at the time, and trained him second. And he’d loved him. And Gotou had loved him back, though not in the same way. Not yet.

But then Gotou found out about the dying. And he had loved him back too much, and too well, and instead of looking at him like the sun he looked at him like he was a man, and tried to take care of him the way Gotou took care of people, and Date had panicked. Because what he had wanted, what he thought he needed, was someone just to need  _ him _ , and maybe in a fucked up way he had liked having Shintaro Gotou following him like a lost puppy, hanging on his every word. When Gotou had treated him like they were on the same level, Date’s first instinct had been to hurt him. And he had. He had in ways he knew he was never going to forgive himself for, as much as he acted like it hadn’t mattered. As much as Gotou never brought it up.

What kind of man laughed at someone who got so scared he shouted ‘I don’t want you to die’? What kind of man followed that up with that if he felt that way, they weren’t partners anymore? The same kinda asshole who fucked Shintaro Gotou without thinking about how Gotou might have imagined this going. About the pace he might have wanted to set. About his boundaries.

Date reached up without thinking, and touched the curved pink scar on the back of his head. Slightly more hidden by his hair these days, but still there. Always there. That Gotou even gave him a chance to get this far was a miracle for the ages. But love, he supposed, wasn’t as logical or understandable as Gotou might have once liked it to be, and Gotou loved him too, even when Date didn’t deserve it.

Date hung his head a little, and kissed Gotou along his hairline, and felt like absolute garbage. He loved him. He loved him so much it scared him. And when Date got scared he fucked up. 

“Are you ok?” Date blinked. Gotou was looking up at him, all squished up in his arms, having apparently recovered at some point. Gotou looked worried.

“Uh, yeah,” Date managed a smile. “You good? I mean, right, of course- the phone thing was too much, huh?”

“Yes.”

“Shouldn’t have done that, huh.”

“No.”

“Sorry.”

“I know.”

“I love you,” Date blurted, a little lamely. He wasn’t sure what else to do. “You’re my salmon.”

Gotou smiled with a little sigh. He was blushing, faintly. Not the hot red blush of someone being fucked until all the blood rushed to their head, but the soft blush of someone who had to put up with being called a salmon, and knowing from repetition what it meant.

“Seahorse. Seahorses are the ones that mate for life.”

“Right.” Date shifted both of them, crossed his legs under Gotou. He rubbed at the back of Gotou’s neck, making little circles with his thumb. Gotou sighed, going slightly limp against Date’s chest, but in a much more pleasant way than before.

“Hey,” said Date, struggling for eloquence. “So, ok. That wasn’t… Let’s just take a raincheck, huh? We can try that again sometime. Lemme get you breakfast.”

“It’s five pm.”

“Lemme get you dinner. My treat.”

Gotou looked up at Date’s face, with just the ghost of a frown quirking the corner of his mouth, and Date realized Gotou was looking at him like he was very beautiful, and very beloved, and very,  _ very  _ stupid.

“I want to.” Gotou’s brows knit together in the way they did when he got capital-d Determined. That was not the face of a man who was going to go to dinner and then cuddle on the couch until he finished what he goddamn  _ started _ . Date felt his heart do a flip.

“You sure? Really, it’s cool if we-”

Gotou put his hands on either side of Date’s face and kissed him, pulling him downwards to meet him. It was a hell of a kiss, slow and warm, confident and brilliant and determined. Date put his hand on the back of Gotou’s, pressing Gotou’s palm gently against his jaw.

“I want to.” Gotou said again, murmured against Date’s lips when he finally broke the kiss, the barest brush of his breath warm on Date’s mouth. “Now.” 

Date fell in love all over again.

Five minutes. Fresh condom. More lube. Glass of water and the phone back on the charger, though Date made him promise he wasn’t checking his texts from Satonaka. A lot of kissing.

Like a  _ lot _ a lot of kissing. Date had gotten Gotou back up on pillow mountain and laid down on him, legs intertwined, most of his weight safely on one arm, the other hand slowly stroking Gotou’s cock. Gotou had his hands in Date’s hair, on his shoulders, trailing along his neck, keeping him close while he pressed his thigh between Date’s legs. Date ground against him, slow and tender, rubbing his own cock against Gotou’s soft thigh. 

“Ready?” Gotou finally breathed, kissing Date on the nose.

“Fuck yeah I am,” Date said, growling another kiss against Gotou’s mouth. “You wanna be on top?”

“Yeah.” Gotou licked his lip as Date slid onto his side, giving him the space to readjust. As he laid back, hands adjusting pillows behind his head, he tried to take in Gotou, on his knees above him. It was a good look, an uncommon angle for both of them. And he still had that look, that capital-D Determined look, and there was something different about… everything. 

With a little assistance, Gotou slid back inside Date, sighing that same soft, clipped sigh from before. Date leaned back and smiled up at him, feeling himself relax into the contact. He was still plenty loosened up, no worries there. 

Date ran his hands through Gotou’s hair, trying with every muscle to hold himself back, to not yank Gotou into him, to not seek out the spot in himself again. It was hard, but Gotou was worth it, and when he wasn’t all drunk on wanting to be fucked, he knew that. All the waiting and anticipating, the runup to the moment, had been worth it. And if this wasn’t exactly how he wanted it, if Gotou kept at it at his slow, steady pace, that was fine. It was  _ Gotou’s  _ pace, and that was nice. And he could always teach Gotou how to jack him off if he was still going too slow in a bit, here. No one was going to go away unfulfilled, Date thought, caressing Gotou’s cheek with a thumb. Gotou looked up through his eyelashes, eyes soft and dark and deep, and.

_ And. _

Date squeaked, blinked. Looked at Gotou with what had to have been a somewhat startled expression. Gotou’s eyes fluttered wide, his expression careful. He licked his lip and did it again, dragging a moan from Date’s throat as he connected, pressed, against that spot deep inside Date. Gotou twisted his hip, eyes focused. Brows knitted with determination. He planted his fists in the sheets on either side of Date’s waist and thrusted, thrusted again, building a rhythm and a pressure and a and a and a-

“Holy shit babe, what did you read again?” Date said, trying not to sound strangled, or worse,  _ too  _ surprised.

“You, mostly,” he breathed, words catching in his throat as Date gave a short, abrupt laugh and an involuntary squeeze at that, held him in a beat longer before letting him go. Of course.  _ Of course. _

Shintaro Gotou  _ always  _ read the manual,  _ always  _ prepared himself for everything. It made spontaneity in the relationship entirely Date’s arena, but meant they always had a reservation and a sewing kit. Gotou spent all his time watching, learning, from when Date taught him how to shoot the Buster to, well, now that he was learning to shoot something  _ else _ . Gotou always noticed and reacted and thought too hard about every single detail but the point was: he always took  _ notes _ . And Date had been an open book all night, giving him a list of data points as long as.  _ Well _ .

It was  _ not _ Date’s pace. It was  _ not _ his usual fare. It was slow and focused and insistent, Gotou taking long, deep thrusts into and out of him, pressing hard against his prostate at the end of every stroke. Date felt a muscle in his belly contract, again it was involuntary, and he gasped, not sure what part of what Gotou was doing was responsible for  _ that _ . It was not at all how he would have told Gotou to do it, and holy  _ shit _ it was good.

And Gotou was - Gotou did something with his hip again, holy shit, what  _ was _ that - Gotou was just  _ looking  _ at him. Just watching his face, through his sweat curled hair, just gazing into his eyes like he was the most romantic motherfucker in the world as he fucked him.

Date got his elbow under him, arched his back into a thrust, and Gotou reacted, slipping his hand under Date’s knee, pushing his leg up, rolling him ever so slightly towards his side. The angle of impact changed. Date  _ whimpered _ , then cleared his throat.

Gotou was a man far too good to chuckle at a time like this, but he did smile an  _ especially  _ charming smile. Date felt himself blush. 

“You’re so -  _ hhhnn _ \- so  _ dreamy _ .” He said around another moan, grinning like the idiot in love that he was. Gotou  _ tsked _ fondly, then snaked his hand up Date’s stomach to his hairy chest, cupping and squeezing, pushing his weight gently against Date. He pulled himself out almost completely, then with a flicker of a look to Date’s face sped up the rhythm of his thrusts, simultaneously running his thumb over Date’s nipple. That muscle in Date’s stomach flinched again. He leaned up into the contact, his skin tingling like he was full of sparklers. He was getting a body high, a slowly spreading warm feeling, like being dipped in caramel, every thrust bringing him closer to an edge that he was  _ not _ accustomed to feeling come at him this quickly. He tried to think of baseball. He didn’t know anything about baseball, and then Gotou did a  _ thing _ with his hand on Date’s chest, and  _ then  _ Gotou was stretching out against him, his body flexing against Date’s cock, and then his mouth was on Date’s nipple, and there was a hot wet explosion of sensation and Date came a little bit on his stomach.

“Holy shit?” He said again, voice now sounding entirely strangled. He was vaguely aware of his toes, on both feet, curling and uncurling with every thrust.

“Sh-Shintaro,  _ baby _ , you-”

“ _ Akira _ ,” Gotou moaned, biting down on Date’s chest with the barest pressure. Date flinched again, cock dripping, head going fuzzy, blood rushing behind his eardrums. The hand on Gotou’s head curled gently into his hair, wet with sweat. The tips of Gotou’s ears were red. Date wanted to bite them, but also was having trouble connecting that thought,  _ any  _ thought, to action.

“You’re so  _ tight _ ,” Gotou continued. Date sheepishly unclenched with another extremely masculine whimper. He was thrusting back now, hips moving almost of their own accord, matching pace and trying to get Gotou to stay just a little longer in contact with that ache in his belly. He shivered. He had goosebumps all up the back of his arm.

He was not used to amazement being a thing that could come on so slowly, so implacably. Like a glacier. A really hot glacier. A really, really,  _ really  _ hot glacier.

Date tossed his head and bumped into the headboard. He didn’t even feel it.

“Oh, shit, are you-”

“Y-yes,” Date said, cracking an eye open. When, exactly, had he closed those? “Keep going, I think I’m  _ real  _ close.”

Gotou nodded, that determined look in his eyes sharp as steel. That look, in this context, had to be the sexiest thing Date had ever seen.

“I might-” Gotou cut himself off, sucking a hard kiss against Date’s chest. The kind that left a mark. “I-I might not-”

“You can come in me,” Date said, feeling a curious rush as he said it. Gotou’s stomach went tight against Date’s cock. He sucked in a breath. The tips of his ears were so,  _ so _ red. Date’s hand - which was shaking, again, when did that start? - stroked Gotou’s hair. He said it again.

“I mean it, go ahead, you can come inside me, Gotou-chan,” and he grinned like an idiot down at Gotou.

“Shintaro,” Gotou said, cheek pressed into the valley of Date’s chest, breath hot and hard, mouth too distracted by moaning to search and kiss and bite. The hand, however, was not distracted at all, fingers stiff and insistent on his nipples. 

“R-right,” Date grunted, leaned his head on the headboard, and moaned between his teeth:

“Come  _ inside _ me, Shintaro.”

Gotou came immediately, gasping against Date’s skin, and the heat, the sensation, the feeling of Gotou spasming against him was  _ exactly  _ enough to send Date over the edge, come spurting in between their bodies as his back arched up off the pillows.

There was a second of tension, his back bridged, breath caught in his throat, and then Date went limp. Gotou bounced a tiny bit, and went still against his chest.

Date lay there, slowly petting Gotou’s hair, twirling the messy almost-curls. He slowly became aware of his other arm and wrapped it around Gotou’s back, feeling the sweat and come in a puddle between them as he pressed him close. For a long moment, it was just the two of them laying there, and the soft sound of their breathing slowing down, and the smell of sex all around them. Eventually, with a long sigh, Date said:

“Love you, babe.”

“I love you, too,” Gotou’s blush went hot again, his eyes flicked down. He looked like he was trying very hard not to smile a huge, stupid smile. Date stroked his ear, still red. He pinched delicately, watched it go from white to red in a second.

“Can we stay like this?” Date said. Gotou grimaced in response, but didn’t say no. Date noticed Gotou had drooled a little on his chest when he came.

“Just for a sec,” Date said. A bead of sweat ran from his belly to his back, he shivered and stretched his legs out slowly, twining his legs around Gotou’s. He lay there like that for a long moment, stroking Gotou’s hair lazily with one hand, just listening to their breathing. After a time he slipped his hand between them and gently grabbed the base of Gotou’s cock, pulling him out, hanging onto the condom to keep it on. He craned his neck and kissed Gotou on top of his head. “Okay.”

Gotou peeled himself off of Date, a smear of come shining across his breastbone. Date blinked and the condom was taken care of, and Gotou had a towel. Date wasn’t sure where he had been keeping that, but of  _ course  _ he had a towel. He was prepared for everything. Date smiled, making no attempt for it to  _ not _ be a big, stupid smile. He could feel that he had at least one bright purple hickey on his chest, just now starting to throb as his body started registering soreness again.

“Toldja you’d be great,” he said. Gotou’s eyes fell on the hickey. “So, dinner?”

Gotou looked like  _ steam  _ was going to start coming off his ears.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm ten years too late for this fandom, but I hope if you're still out there looking for fic, you enjoyed mine.


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